


Maybe I'm in Love

by hardkourparcore



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, First Dates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-30 23:31:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20105428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hardkourparcore/pseuds/hardkourparcore
Summary: Linhardt takes Dorothea to dinner, immediately.  It's not a date she ever imagined having, but it's warmer than all the rest.





	Maybe I'm in Love

**Author's Note:**

> hi whats up i'm in 3H hell, linhardt is my favorite, and theirs was the first a rank i got in the game ENJOY

“Well... You really know how to treat a girl, don't you?” Her question is obviously sarcastic. He can tell by now.

“I told you I couldn't be bothered to walk into town,” Linhardt replies, and he speaks the truth. “So dinner would be here.”

In the mess hall, he means, with all these other soldiers also dining and chatting around them. In a way, it was familiar to Dorothea. The days she spent serially dating all the noble boys at the Officer's Academy were usually spent like this: somewhere public, somewhere comfortable, and somewhere that would be easy to leave whenever she inevitably got bored of her date. She isn't sure if the familiarity makes it better or worse.

“I would probably eat by myself if you weren't here,” he continues. Then, he grants her a small smile. “But for what it's worth, I am glad to have your company.”

There's something about Linhardt now that's a little lighter. She suspects it's because he unloaded on her something that seemed like it would be heavy to carry on your heart. She's still thinking about it. He had spoke as if it were easy to just avoid everything bad you didn't want to think about it, but... Really, they were both struggling with the reality of this war.

How much longer will it be, actually, before either of them can return to a life without seeing swords clash and soldiers fall? She wonders.

“Lin...” She begins. There's a pause as she hesitates, and she ends up not finishing the thought: “This isn't...”

He stares a moment, presumably trying to glean what “it” isn't without any more help. He does decide, quickly.

“No.”

It isn't.

“I'm aware of all the dates you used to go on, years ago. You don't do that anymore. If I marry you, it wouldn't just be for your voice or your appearance. Isn't that part obvious?”

“If you marry me?!” She's taken aback, admittedly. One dinner doesn't hold a single candle to _an entire marriage_.

“Well, this is one date,” Linhardt explains casually. “And I was planning for others, later, and if that continues it's only natural for marriage to be in question, isn't it?”

Dorothea can't help but blush. She can usually, easily play the part of a teasing lover, but everything Linhardt has been saying just keeps catching her off guard... It takes her a moment to compose herself, but she manages a counter back, with a small smirk back where it belongs.

“That's if you play your cards right, you know. You said yourself, I don't date around looking for an easy meal ticket any more.”

He nods. “So tell me what you're looking for these days, so I'll know if I can provide it.”

“Alright. I'm looking for some one who I like, who likes me back.” Her words are carefully measured. They're genuine, but they sound a little too light in tone for it. “Some one odd enough to disregard my past, my beauty, or my voice... Some one who would just appreciate me for... me.”

“Some one odd,” Linhardt repeats. “Is that really odd at all?”

“You'd be surprised...”

He didn't know the kinds of people that came after her, or gave her gifts. To see her now, they'd probably look down their noses. Battle scars can never be beautiful; she's already lost her porcelain skin. The same boys taking her to lunch five years ago would probably see a woman too hardened by time to be worth wedding.

“Odd... Strange.” Now what is he saying?

“You called me strange just now, before we walked over here.”

“...Yeah. I did.”

He smiles again and sets down his knife and fork. One hand reaches across the table, his fingers gently setting themselves on the backs of hers. Something in the way he moves is a little tentative, perhaps shy, but he doesn't pull away in hesitation.

“I think I can be strange for you,” he says. “Or at least, as strange as I already am. And I already appreciate you a great deal, Dorothea.”

She huffs. “You are strange. Very, very strange.”

And she takes a moment to move their hands, to lace their fingers together.

“But,” she continues, turning a pretty smile back at Linhardt. “I think this is something I can definitely get used to...”


End file.
